


Interlude#3 - Comfort

by rosethorne1



Series: Musical Interludes [3]
Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Comfort, Dreams and Nightmares, F/M, Hair Braiding, Inspired by Music, Sleepy Cuddles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-01
Updated: 2020-04-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:33:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23423233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosethorne1/pseuds/rosethorne1
Summary: Despite the fact that I was aiming to write mostly smut, this turned out nearly PG.Nightmares keep our two protagonists from sleeping well, both historically and in the present. Their force bond helps them to find comfort in each other during the dark hours of the night.
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Series: Musical Interludes [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1645318
Comments: 4
Kudos: 20





	Interlude#3 - Comfort

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Zannah](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zannah/gifts).



> No overt smut in this, just casual mentions that even teenagers would likely roll their eyes at.

Quiet whimpers filled his ears and woke him from his inadequate sleep. He normally would have moved quickly to strike down anyone who attempted to creep into his quarters and find him vulnerable, but the bond was wide open, and he could feel her body next to him in the bed.

The whimpering became more strained, fearful and dark. He immediately rolled to his side and pulled her close to his chest, wrapping his arms around her and tucking her head into the juncture where his neck met shoulder.

He gently stroked her back while making soothing words and noises to chase away the nightmare until she relaxed again, safe and content in his embrace. She never fully woke, and his soothing had helped her slip back into a state of deep sleep.

Even had she woken, there would be silence between them, they had an unspoken agreement to not discuss the reasons why their unconscious minds sought comfort in each other during these dark times at night. He was content to hold her close, breathing in her scent, feeling the silky smoothness of her under his fingertips as he gently stroked the delicate skin revealed by her simple sleepwear of an undershirt and panties.

He should really try and go back to sleep while she was here, as holding her blessed him with the most restful sleep he’d ever experienced, but he was loathe to let his mind slip under as that would mean he would no longer be able to enjoy the heady feeling of her pressed into his body as he wrapped himself in her essence.

The nighttime visits between them, any time they were on the same sleep schedule at least, had become so frequent that it was almost more jarring when it did not happen than when it did. He occasionally wondered how she labeled their quiet moments in the dark, or if she even thought of them at all when she went about her daily routines.

He considered them as an outlet, or source rather, of simple comfort and physical touch, things that he had been deprived of for so long. In fact, he had not realized quite how touch starved he was until they were on different sleep schedules for a fortnight and he grew desperate and melancholy without the regular brush of her skin against him.

Oddly, it had been Hux who had brought it to his, inadvertent, attention. He had been particularly sullen one day and Hux had made it a point to confront him after a staff meeting regarding his change in temperament. Apparently, his reemerging moodiness had been causing unrest among the officers, and he’d started racking up damaged equipment costs again, which pissed off Hux to no end as he still considered the ship to belong to him personally.

It had galled him that Hux, of all people, was right about something so personal regarding himself. Nevertheless, he wasn’t one to shrink from the truth, an unadmitted weakness was a point of failure in for his foes to exploit, so he’d had spent several cycles in meditation mulling over the issue.

When he’d finally emerged from his retreat, he’d concluded that she was the root of his sanity and peace. She held half of his soul within her, and her light balanced his dark. When they were together he felt whole in a way that he never had before. He was able to project a facsimile of normality without her, but it was much easier to for him to slide back into old destructive patterns when deprived of the comfort of her touch.

He was still going to track her down and convince her to accept his hand, but he could be patient and attend to other goals in the meantime so long as he had these small moments of comfort in the dark. Deep inside he understood that his goals and hers were in conflict, after all they were on opposite sides of a war, but he tried not to focus on that, he would find a way to make it-them work.

He must have tensed up during his ruminations because she stirred in his arms, stroking him with her slender fingers and nuzzling into his neck with a little hum of comfort. Abruptly, he was reminded by his traitorous body that although his mind sought only comfort from her touch, the rest of his body had other ideas. Her proximity in his bed, dressed in just an undershirt and panties, arms wrapped around his body and stroking him, face snuggled into his bare chest, and one of her long beautiful legs thrown over his, was causing a physical reaction that was making itself embarrassingly obvious by tenting the sleep pants he’d worn to bed.

He breathed deeply, closed his eyes, and started a meditation he hadn’t used since he was a padawan, reaching for control of his body. He couldn’t be sure how she would react to initiating that kind of intimacy, and he wouldn’t risk the delicate tendrils of trust they had been steadily building between them. His meditation lulled him into his own slumber, and he stirred only briefly when the force bond closed, and her warm body disappeared from his arms. He woke in the morning content and refreshed, feelings still mostly new to him as the nightmares had prevented restful sleep most of his life.

He wondered a little wistfully, if there was a respectful way to let her know he’d be more than happy to take care of any future physical needs she might have without tipping the tenuous balance they’d created…

No, he thought more resolutely. He wasn’t willing to risk this feeling of well rested peace to indulge his baser needs, he would be content with whatever this was between them, for now.

* * *

Rey stretched languidly as she woke in the morning, the satisfied purring in her soul letting her know that the force bond had connected them once again. She only ever felt this peaceful quietness after sleeping in his arms during the night.

Remarkably, despite the other force bond visits that occurred while they were both awake, there was very little sexual tension in their bedtime connections. It wasn’t completely devoid of the constant churning lust that underlaid the rest of their interactions, but it was decidedly muted in favor of a more primal need for physical touch and comfort.

In a quiet, unobserved corner of her brain, she wistfully wondered how he would react if she initiated something MORE than soothing comfort in the dark of night…but she wasn’t willing to risk their fragile unspoken agreement to find out.

No, she thought, she could…no she WOULD keep those feelings ruthlessly compartmentalized. Sleep visits were to satisfy the touch starvation caused by the combination of their upbringings and current roles.

Ben might have been the loved child of Leia and Han but they were absent more often than not leaving him bereft of their love and attention, then when they’d shipped him to Luke he’d been denied affection as a part of his padawan training.

Once he’d assumed the mask and mantle of Kylo Ren no one was stupid, or brave enough to become physically familiar with him, leaving his few physical interactions as occasional by products of torture, training, or paid sexual companionship.

He didn’t speak of these emotional topics, but they were frequently in his nightmares and subconscious thoughts during their quiet nighttimes, which he didn’t bother to try and hide, deliberately leaving his mind open to her.

Deliberately luxuriating in the opportunity to lounge in bed late this morning, her mind wandered back to another night not long ago when they had both been awake and thinking too loudly without speaking.

They’d both had very difficult days, and the force bond had connected them before they’d even both settled into their respective beds for the night. The prospect of having to converse with Kylo Ren after having such a shitty day had turned her wretched mood even worse, and it WOULD have been Kylo Ren not Ben. She could always tell when he was hiding behind the mask, using it as a shield to protect himself as he lashed out in emotional agony at everyone around him. So, instead of engaging she just ignored him and went about her nightly routine as if he weren’t standing there in the room with her.

Kylo had stood in the middle of her room, fists clenched, chest heaving, as he struggled to control his temper, aggravated at not being permitted the space to come down off the elevated level of rage he had to maintain in order to keep the mask in place.

Kylo went over to the entertainment console and set it to playing. She faintly recognized the tune coming out of it, though she wasn’t sure why.

 _“It’s the playlist I use most often for sleep”_ he said, still not looking at her, but obviously aware enough of her to catch her unguarded thoughts. _“I find it easier to sleep if I can’t hear the physical noises from the rest of the ship, music helps block that out, and using a familiar playlist helps my mind get into the correct headspace for sleep.”_

Logical, she thought, always logic and forethought with him.

Rey had watched him, through a combination of her peripheral vision and the force, as she went about her bedtime routine silently gauging his rage level. She now watched him more openly from her bed, where she had settled to start her nightly meditation.

The music crooned from hidden speakers, lyrics seeming to speak to him.

**_“I’m bigger than my body, I’m colder than this home, I’m meaner than my demons, I’m bigger than theses bones”_ **

It was ironic how appropriate this song was, and she could tell from watching him that this was part of the personal ritual that allowed him the headspace to start peeling off the layers of Kylo Ren and uncover the core of Ben that lay underneath.

**_“All the kids cried out please stop you’re scaring me. I can’t help this awful energy. Goddamn right you should be scared of me. Who is in control?”_ **

Indeed, she pondered, who WAS in control of his brain right now. It was almost like she could see the change happening within him as he morphed from one person to the next, from Kylo to Ben….but at the same time, they weren’t separate people, they were one. Kylo was Ben, and Ben was Kylo, all parts of the whole, but parts that fought each other constantly.

“ ** _I couldn’t stand the person inside me, I turned all the mirrors around”_**

**_“I’ve grown familiar with villains who live in my head”_ **

As the song played through, she watched as he rearranged his spirit in order to find the calm necessary for rest. It was a good song to start his night with, it was almost too appropriate to his personal struggle with his internal conflict.

She fervently wished that someday he’d find a way for those pieces to live in harmony and truly accept himself for who he really was, neither Light nor Dark, but some of each striving for balance. He’d been so focused his whole life on being one or the other that he’d never learned to find that balance between; first trying to be all light as a Jedi, unwanted or not, then flinging himself in the opposite direction trying to be fully Dark with Snoke.

She mourned for the boy he had once been, longing to be loved by his parents, to become a pilot and take over the Falcon and continue Han’s work when he grew up. Mourned deeply that this broken, conflicted, tortured soul was what remained of such beautiful bright aspirations.

Seemingly immersed in the song and his routine he appeared unaware of the direction her thoughts had taken, and she made a conscious effort to tuck them away in a box in her mind so he wouldn’t hear them.

He continued with the rest of his activities, stepping into the fresher to wash up, removing the trappings of his work robes in favor of a pair of soft sleep pants laying low across his hips. Finally he quickly tied up his hair in a half braid and wandered over to climb into the bed with her, brush and hair ties still in hand.

 _“May I braid your hair for sleep?”_ he asked low and a little rough _“it’ll help keep your hair tidy and easy to manage in the morning.”_

She contemplated for a moment, her hair had gotten longer and she did have to spend extra time nowadays in the morning detangling the whole mess before she could tie it up into it’s normal buns. She gave him a nod and turned herself around so that her back was to him and scooted back into the space between his knees.

She sighed with pleasure as he gently took down her buns and lightly massaged her scalp. He was tender but thorough as he brushed through her hair, gently removing the knots with a minimum of pain and fuss. Eventually she felt him section off her hair and begin weaving it back together. When he was done, she had a comfortable single braid hanging down her back.

He took a deep breath, seemingly calmed by the actions of tending to her needs, and he gently pulled her back into his arms and laid them both down in the bed, setting the brush aside on the bedside table. A wave of his hand and the were suddenly in the dark as he used the force to turn out the lights.

The music had gone through several songs while he’d been busy with their bedtime haircare, each song becoming more gentle and soothing.

There didn’t seem to be any words to this particular track, just vocalizing from a female singer so far. Then she could hear his voice rumbling through his chest as he recited along with the strong male voice that suddenly started speaking on the track. She got a brief flash from his mind as they both started drifting off, a memory of him at a desk with a calligraphy set, listening to this song and transcribing the poem in his best hand, intending it to be a gift for Luke.

**_“O for a voice like thunder, and a tongue_ **

**_To drown the throat of war!”_ **

His voice was like thunder she thought drowsily as she slipped into the comforting darkness of sleep.

Rey snapped out of her reverie as she began to hear signs of life in the hanger outside her room. It was time to get up and really begin her day, and she once more resolved that she wouldn’t risk this quietly content feeling by introducing sexual tension into their nighttime visits. They got enough of that during their waking visits after all.

**Author's Note:**

> The two songs quoted in this interlude are:  
> “Control” by Halsey  
> and  
> “Lullaby” by Loreena McKennitt  
> Though per Wikipedia (don’t shoot, I know they’re an unreliable source most times, but it’s accurate in this case): “Lullaby" uses the words of a poem by William Blake, Prologue intended for a dramatic piece of King Edward the Fourth. The song was written for the 1983 Stratford Festival of Canada production of Blake by Elliott Hayes and performed by Douglas Campbell.


End file.
